Saturday, July 30, 2011

One morning in July, 1854, a planter named Williamson, living six miles from Selma, Alabama, was sitting with his wife and a child on the veranda of his dwelling. Immediately in front of the house was a lawn, perhaps fifty yards in extent between the house and public road, or, as it was called, the "pike." Beyond this road lay a close-cropped pasture of some ten acres, level and without a tree, rock, or any natural or artificial object on its surface. At the time there was not even a domestic animal in the field. In another field, beyond the pasture, a dozen slaves were at work under an overseer.
Throwing away the stump of a cigar, the planter rose, saying: "I forgot to tell Andrew about those horses." Andrew was the overseer.
Williamson strolled leisurely down the gravel walk, plucking a flower as he went, passed across the road and into the pasture, pausing a moment as he closed the gate leading into it, to greet a passing neighbor, Armour Wren, who lived on an adjoining plantation. Mr. Wren was in an open carriage with his son James, a lad of thirteen. When he had driven some two hundred yards from the point of meeting, Mr. Wren said to his son: "I forgot to tell Mr. Williamson about those horses."
Mr. Wren had sold to Mr. Williamson some horses, which were to have been sent for that day, but for some reason not now remembered it would be inconvenient to deliver them until the morrow. The coachman was directed to drive back, and as the vehicle turned Williamson was seen by all three, walking leisurely across the pasture. At that moment one of the coach horses stumbled and came near falling. It had no more than fairly recovered itself when James Wren cried: "Why, father, what has become of Mr. Williamson?"
It is not the purpose of this narrative to answer that question.
Mr. Wren's strange account of the matter, given under oath in the course of legal proceedings relating to the Williamson estate, here follows:
"My son's exclamation caused me to look toward the spot where I had seen the deceased [sic] an instant before, but he was not there, nor was he anywhere visible. I cannot say that at the moment I was greatly startled, or realized the gravity of the occurrence, though I thought it singular. My son, however, was greatly astonished and kept repeating his question in different forms until we arrived at the gate. My black boy Sam was similarly affected, even in a greater degree, but I reckon more by my son's manner than by anything he had himself observed. [This sentence in the testimony was stricken out.] As we got out of the carriage at the gate of the field, and while Sam was hanging [sic] the team to the fence, Mrs. Williamson, with her child in her arms and followed by several servants, came running down the walk in great excitement, crying: 'He is gone, he is gone! O God! what an awful thing!' and many other such exclamations, which I do not distinctly recollect. I got from them the impression that they related to something more--than the mere disappearance of her husband, even if that had occurred before her eyes. Her manner was wild, but not more so, I think, than was natural under the circumstances. I have no reason to think she had at that time lost her mind. I have never since seen nor heard of Mr. Williamson."
This testimony, as might have been expected, was corroborated in almost every particular by the only other eye-witness (if that is a proper term)--the lad James. Mrs. Williamson had lost her reason and the servants were, of course, not competent to testify. The boy James Wren had declared at first that he SAW the disappearance, but there is nothing of this in his testimony given in court. None of the field hands working in the field to which Williamson was going had seen him at all, and the most rigorous search of the entire plantation and adjoining country failed to supply a clew. The most monstrous and grotesque fictions, originating with the blacks, were current in that part of the State for many years, and probably are to this day; but what has been here related is all that is certainly known of the matter. The courts decided that Williamson was dead, and his estate was distributed according to law.

Friday, July 29, 2011

In the early 1990s we started to keep notes about the ghost happenings. [He begins reading the notes.] This happened to me on the 7th of September, 2006, 1:26 a.m. I'm a very light sleeper, and it was a musical chime like you'd have on a jewelry box. It played for ten seconds straight. Saturday, November 10, 2001: It sounded like somebody took a chair and dragged it across the kitchen floor. We all heard it, but when we got into the kitchen the chairs were all where they belonged. This is one of our daughter Angie's notes from August of 1993. She used to work as a dentist technician and her lab coat had been ironed while she slept. This is the second time she said it had happened. On June 12, 1991, there was a very strong scent of perfume. I don't have a sense of smell so I wouldn't know. Louise said to me, "It's unbelievable how strong it is."

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

A GREAT blog entry over at Arcane's The Scarecrow's Post blog.He attended the Fright Night Film Fest and hung out with Bubba and Marylee.As a huge fan of Dark Night of the Scarecrow, these are some pretty awesome bragging rights.

The Fortune Teller features a grotesque array of 15 artfully handcrafted figures in a dark comic tale unfolding in a fantastic Victorian world. Seven characters representing the seven deadly sins convene at a dead millionaire’s estate to claim their inheritance as determined by a fortune teller. One by one, each is delivered what they have coming to them, but perhaps not what they are expecting—a brutal, but suitable, demise. Featuring the gravelly, recorded narration of Irish vocalist Gavin Friday and an eerie score by Sanko and Grammy-winning film composer Danny Elfman, this sinister puppet theater spectacle is a perverse, but gleeful morality tale for grown-ups.

Friday, July 22, 2011

The ghosts of all things past parade,Emerging from the mist and shadeThat hid them from our gaze,And, full of song and ringing mirth,In one glad moment of rebirth,And again they walk the ways of earthAs in the ancient days.

The beacon light shines on the hill,The will-o'-wisps the forests fillWith flashes filched from noon;And witches on their broomsticks sprySpeed here and yonder in the sky,And lift their strident voices highUnto the Hunter's Moon.

Spoke to a company rep today and she said that the Pumpkin Hollow shipments are expected to arrive at the warehouse today, and that they've been taking pre-orders for our items since May. She added that most of the order is going to go right out the door as soon as it arrives. Pretty exciting. She said the light-up pumpkins are the hottest sellers and that the new showroom location is all decked out with a massive Halloween section, with Pumpkin Hollow being prominently featured.

After this putrid heat wave clears, we'll be planning another trip to Lancaster to snap some photos.